


Dust to Dust

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Series: Dust to Dust [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Gen, Muteness, Orzammar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5201672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can’t leave home. Not really.</p><p>Warden Lira Brosca knew this, but that didn’t mean she wanted a reminder. </p><p>A picture of a return to Orzammar.</p><p>(Mute Warden Brosca)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dust to Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Support for this series would be nice. Reblogs or comments if you can spare the time. I write this to amuse myself, but it’s nice to see if others like it.
> 
> I'm crossposting from Tumblr.

On her first night back home, back in a tavern, it took her a second to realize why a table of warrior class dwarfs were looking at her.

She was an idiot. A fool. Worse than Morrigan ever claimed Alistair to be. The surface might have changed her position in society, but it had no power here back home. In Dust town, she was not the Grey Warden. She was not the warrior working to combat the blight. She was not respected.

She was a Brosca. Casteless. Dust. And like most dust around these parts, there were always those looking to kick it.Lira looked towards her companions. Alistair, Wynne and Leliana. Not the easiest to sneak away from, but possible. She moved closer to them, and looked back towards the dwarves eyeing her in the corner. They didn’t seem dismayed by her company. In fact, they looked eager.

Lira knew how this was going to go. They were going to leave the bar and they would get jumped. Her for being a stain in this city, them for daring to speak to her like she was something else. She would win, she could take them alone if needed, and the ruckus would attract the attention of the guard. The guard would notice that surfacers had injured some of the warrior class. And their negotiations, precarious as they already were, would be done for.

No. She could not let that happen. She could not afford it. Getting the others involved would be unfortunate. Which left one other option.

Lira scowled. It had been awhile since she took a beating that she could have avoided. She wasn’t looking forward to taking another one. It was a past that she didn’t want to revisit.

This entire place was something she didn’t want to revisit.

She reached into her pockets and pulled out all the coin she had. Thank the Stone she left most of it back at their camp; pulling out large amounts would have attracted attention. Her sword and shield were still on her back; that wouldn’t do. The brutes waiting for her would take her steel for sure if this went wrong. No, she’d have to pass them off. Without attracting suspicion.

“ _Alistair_ ,” she signed, catching the human’s attention. He was flushed from the ale he’d had, she hoped he wasn’t drunk already. “ _Can you watch my sword and shield_?”

Alistair put down his glass. His eyebrow rose slightly. “Why? Is something wrong?” The very word was enough to draw Leliana and Wynne’s attention.

 _“Is something wrong, dear?_ ” Wynne, always the mother. Lira wondered how her life would have turned out, if she’d been raised by someone like her. Lira shook her head and forced on an embarrassed smile.

“ _Remember, squirt,”_ the memory of Beraht whispers in her brain. “ _It’s easier to pull off a con when people don’t want to ask questions.”_

Stone, she hated that man.

“ _Have to use the lavatory_ ,” Lira signed. “ _Armor is cumbersome enough. I have a dagger to work with if pressed.”_

That did the trick; Alistair shrugged as Lira handed over her sword and shield. Lira had a feeling the ale had something to do with it. She walked out of the main area of the tavern, casting a glance towards the group watching her as she went. A silent challenge.

_Want me? Meet me outside._

The responding grin from the group was enough to tell her they would meet her there.

She calculated what she knew in her head. Group of four. Likely armed with knives. Herself. Armed with a dagger, a fist, and a large amount of annoyance. She’d fought worse with less, even as a duster. Those boys would fall before her, and Lira would make them fall quietly. If caught, well, she’d have enough time to make a break for it while they considered if touching her was worth the stain on their honor. It wouldn’t be a clean fight, she’d end up bruised for sure, but it would be a victorious one.

She opened the back doors and ducked as a fist was thrown over her head.

Huh. Eager. She could work with eager.

She swept her leg out, a trick Zevran taught her. The man went down, and reaching for his fist was a easy. She gripped it tight, forcing his wrist into her knee and the cracking sound that followed was rather satisfying. Lira reached back to add a blow to his face, but retreated as a knife swiped an inch from her face.

“Fucking duster,” the man with the knife said, lunging forward again. Lira dodged. “Showing your face around here. With steel.” Another lunge. Another dodge. The man threw his arm out wide to try to get more momentum and Lira saw her opportunity. “You shame the Stone-”   

He didn’t finish. Lira got a punch right in his chest, right in that sweet spot that Leliana showed her. There was a name for it, Lira remembered, but one she long forgot. He went down at once, and she grabbed head to shove it into the stone below.

Another knife whirled past her ear, leaving a small cut. Lira looked up. Two of the men she had yet to touch watched her with angry glares. One of them twirled a knife in his hand. Shit, a knife thrower. She hated knife throwers.

Her surprise gave the man she just punched an opportunity and he swiped forward with the knife he still had in hand. It sliced the front of Lira’s armor, piercing just enough to draw blood. Lira kicked forward to get him in the face, he needed to go down. Her boot met his nose and with a crunch he was out, but not before his friend ran forward to throw a punch towards her mouth. It met and Lira stumped back, tasting blood on her tongue.

A split lip. Not her first and not likely her last. She intended to return it in kind and threw a punch forward to catch the attacker in the jaw. There was a cracking noise, she’d gotten the bone, and his eyes rolled up into his head as he collapsed in the alley.

Lira looked at him and his friend. Then back up at the knife thrower and his friend who was still getting up. Now that was better. She could work with this.

She darted forward as the knife thrower took another knife out of his belt. He threw at her as she headed towards them, and while his aim was good, it was nothing compared to what Lira was used to. She reached for her dagger and pulled it out of her belt. As the dwarf she knocked down earlier reached for her, it was a simple motion to twist it in her hand and use the blunt edge to dig right into his throat. She didn’t linger long enough to watch him fall, but the sound of something hitting the stone was enough to let her know he wasn’t getting back up.

The knife thrower was running out of knives and confidence, given his expression. He backed up, trembling as he threw his last blade. It sailed over Lira’s head as she ducked, and she twirled the dagger in her own hand once more. She reached out her arm, using her forearm as a weapon, and the knife thrower soon found himself trapped between her and the wall.

It was times like these that Lira wished she had a voice. It was hard to quip with signs when one’s hands were busy.

“Stain. Dust. Trash.” Her captive was rather irate at being trapped. “I’m reporting you to the guard.”

Lira raised an eyebrow and pointed to the crest on her belt. The man scowled.

“Like that will matter! They don’t care about your special surface protection. All they care about is that mark on your face. That’s all they’ll ever-”

He didn’t finish. Lira leapt back in surprise as a bolt of magic flashed past her, nailing the man right in the face. He passed out at once, becoming limp in Lira’s grasp and she let him drop to the ground. When she turned around, she found Wynne, Leliana, and Alistair staring at her. Wynne had her staff in hand.

“Were they all that rude?” She asked. “If they were, I wouldn’t object to you kicking them once more for good measure.”

Lira started. She could feel blood drip down her chin, stupid split lip. The slash on her chest was bleeding too, not quite as badly, and she could feel a trickle run down her ear as well. She must have looked a sight.

“Marker, Lira,” Alistair said. “What happened-”

“We need to flee,” Leliana cut in. “I can hear guards. I doubt we want to be caught here.”

Lira was thankful for the excuse. She pointed towards the back alley, gesturing to an area she knew it was easy to lose a trail in. Wynne and Leliana followed and after signing to Wynne that healing could wait, Alastair caught up with her. Her sword and shield were on his back.

“You knew this was going to happen,” he whispered as they turned another corner. “And you let it. Why?”

That was a question that she could not answer so simply. It took her a minute to figure out the best way to explain.

 _“Because this is Dust Town and I am Casteless_ ,” she signed as they began to slip into the shadows. “ _And that is how things are. Warden or not_.”

The last thing Lira saw before they stepped into the darkness was Alistair’s frown.

 

 


End file.
